Tears Upon a Park Bench
by Frilly Rose
Summary: 'It was approximately three whole minutes since I had mustered the courage to languish in the ruins of my sanctity of introversion and then it was further more ruined when she opened her mouth.' Human AU, Arthur's POV.


1

I watched microscopic snowflakes fall to the ground gracefully and slowly. The snow crunched underfoot and the freezing wind bit at me like a vicious dog. The park bench was placed in the secluded part of the park where no one walked by because it was surrounded by snow-covered fir and maple at all corners but one and the only illuminance came from a lone street light beside the frosty bench. Even though it gave off hardly any luminosity, that street lamp gave me more light than the sun ever did.

It took me a few minutes before I could move again...after seeing her.

Her hair was like spun silver and her eyes were fixed in an icy gaze. She reminded me of a mystical fairy. I'd seen her before. We go to the same coffee shop every morning and I'm sure she went to the same school as me, also. I think her name was Natalie or Natasha or Natalia or something.

I felt rage bubble and boil in my veins. I had a growing yearning to yell at her but then I realised that people don't often understand my feelings and the way I see things. That was the reason of my loneliness; the reason that delicate short-lived snowflakes became my only solace during winter.

We glared at each other for a few minutes, each moment getting more intense as if we were having a heated debate telepathically and in a way, it felt like we did.

I saw no alternative other than to sit next to her. Really, it wasn't worth arguing with someone like her but I also really didn't want to be within a metre of her or anyone, for that matter.

It was approximately three whole minutes since I had mustered the courage to languish in the ruins of my sanctity of introversion and then it was further more ruined when she opened her mouth. "I don't like you." She stated, her tone dripping with apathy and bitterness. Wasn't she just a ball of sunshine? "I don't like you, either." I replied in the same tone. She seemed amused if not slightly pleased. "Then why don't you just leave?" She suggested. It would be the understatement of the century if I said that she was getting on my nerves now. I glared back at her in response and she gave one back but I'm pretty sure that I won that round.

We spent the next few minutes in absolute silence. It was peaceful at first -the kind that I enjoyed daily- but then it became uncomfortable, the atmosphere reeking of desperate loneliness, the moment begging for some form of assurance that there was still life upon this planet. I was ready to dive in and hold my breath to search for the comfort that was missing but I didn't need to. "Hey," She said as if right on cue. My heart was relieved, I know hers was too but we still wore solemn-faced masks. "Yes?" I answered.

"You know, you and I are quite alike." I had to stop and think for a moment. We'd only known each other for about ten minutes or so and she was able to make such an assumption and for some reason, deep down, I could make such insinuation as well. How?

"And what makes you think that?" I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders and then changed the topic. "So you come here often, Arnold?"

"Arthur."

"Whatever, they're both ugly names." She was definitely, a ball of sunshine. We continued the conversation. Her name was Natalia and no, she didn't feel that she should be a little nicer as I didn't deserve such things, apparently.

2

My spot seemed to become hers as well, I had painstakingly noticed in the last few weeks. We continued to have interesting conversations on varying topics such as: the conspicuousness of ghosts in America, and the psychological effects of separation.

One day, out of the blue she said: "What would you do if somebody told you that you were going to die in three weeks?"

"I don't know. Why do you ask?" I replied. A smile ghosted upon her lips as she stared at the ground like it was the most interesting thing in the world. "I'm going to die in three weeks and I was asking you for advice." She answered as if it were something you said in everyday conversation. She didn't choke nor did she even flinch. She accepted but somehow I could tell by the way she bore her stare into the passing bird that she didn't really want to. I don't know a living soul that would. I didn't quite know how to respond. She realised this and continued: "My doctor told me today that I had contracted a rare disease somehow and that's why." She looked at me with a sweet and rare smile after her rather detail-lacking explanation. "Please, don't feel any sympathy; if you do I'll beat you up." Her eyes welled up with tears and her smile had shortly turned upside down.

Instincts had soon taken over and I pulled what was the sobbing mess of Natalia into a warm embrace.

That was the first time I'd heard a fairy cry in ugly sobs. The first time I had seen such a beautiful girl turned into a complete wreck. Her eyes were red and puffy, and tears stained not only her cheeks but also my winter coat and her trembling bare hands.

It took a while until she was fully recovered. I was glad to see her face back to its normal pale palette because it hurt me when she wasn't her same apathetic, foul-mouthed self. It was a heavy miserable feeling that lay upon my heart like an iron ample.

"So what are you going to do with your life?" I asked her.

"Complete Ivan's dying wish for me," She answered. From our previous conversations I could tell that Ivan -her late brother- was a sacred being to her and if you insulted him any way, you probably wouldn't wake up the next morning. "He told me to find a positive in every day but I've never got around to doing it but it looks like now is as good as time as ever." For a normal person, seeking such things would be a cakewalk, but for Natalia -who was about as optimistic as the empty half of the glass- it was like defying gravity. "Then how about you start today?" I suggested.

"But only if you do it with me." I gave her my 'Do I really have to?' look and then she gave me her 'Of course you do, I'm dying.' Look which didn't seem to have an argument against it that wouldn't start another dispute.

The only things we seemed to find were: "I am now assured that you have a real, beating, human-heart and not some sort of cyborg machinery." and "I now know that you secretly care about me."

We did that every day for three weeks, fulfilling Ivan's wishes.

3

There were no snowflakes the day they told me that Natalia died; no friends to comfort me. I didn't cry, in fear that her ghost may find me and beat me up.

In the morning I thought I saw her sipping Turkish coffee and reading the latest edition of Pravda at the coffee shop.

After work I could feel her presence beside me on the frosty park bench.

I was invited to her funeral that was going to happen in a few weeks.

My colleague asked me all about her, he said to tell him all the positives but I couldn't.

It'd be a lie if I told someone that Natalia was a good person who did great things. It'd be a lie to say that she was saint. It'd be a lie if I said that many people cared about her. Natalia was a pessimistic, apathetic, foul-mouthed, depressed, sadistic, bitter, introverted loner who only cared about herself and her siblings, she never had anything nice to say, and struggled to have positive thoughts, and whenever I think about her all I can do is curse. She's a mess. She's a lot like me.

I tried to carry on our little game in memory of her but I couldn't... and it was her fault.

I never did forgive her for destroying my happy-place.

It'd be a lie if I said that the thought of forgiving her ever crossed my mind.

It'd be a lie if I said that I don't blame her for every little thing that ever happened in my life.

And

.

.

.

.

It'd be a lie if I said that I wasn't in love with Natalia...


End file.
